


Stages of Grief

by Clark3sHeart



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-03-08 09:56:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13455825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clark3sHeart/pseuds/Clark3sHeart
Summary: In space, tension rises between SpaceKru. Bellamy deals with the loss of Clarke while his friends do their best to keep him centered.On the ground, Clarke talks to her radio hoping that one day her friends will return.(a continuation of the S4 finale)





	Stages of Grief

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter One: Day 2

The cell Bellamy sleeps in is nearly silent, as it has been the last few times he's spent the night in here. The only sound comes from the vent seven feet away, an annoying whir that never bothered him when he lived on the Ark.

_Maybe_ , he thinks, _it seems louder now because of all the empty space._

The Ring has multiple cell options, but they all chose a cell next door to each other. It didn't come with much thought, they just knew they didn't want to feel any more alone than they already do. It was any easy choice- something they aren't used to.

All of the rooms are cold. The temperature is rising everyday thanks to Raven, but it will take some more time to reach a comfortable number. Those who didn't have a partner to share a bed with -- Raven, Echo, and Bellamy -- doubled up on old blankets they snatched from other surrounding cells. Bellamy shivers a little now, pulling his two worn thin blankets tighter around his shoulders. He almost wants to ask Raven to partner up with him for the night, but it's late and he decides he'd rather power through it for a few more days.

Right now, as the whir from the vent beats against his eardrums and his eyes create swirls of color against the sheet of darkness, Bellamy begins to explore thoughts he's tried hard to push away since blast off…

_Can we really survive 5 years up here?_

_What if something fails and we run out of oxygen?_

_What if we can't make it home safely?_

_What if Raven can't fix the communication systems and I cant talk to O?_

_What if the algae doesn't grow before we run out of rations? But we have extras now…_

_…Clarke._

No one has talked much about her since they docked.

_It's as if_ , he thinks, _we would all rather pretend she never existed_.

But Bellamy knows she's the reason he's working so hard. Without the thought of Clarke, he would fall apart. He's well aware of this fact, but it's still so hard to imagine what she felt when she was dying- all alone and in the middle of a storm that surely blew her away like dust. Bellamy feels his chest clutch hard around his heart. If he had just fixed the damn satellite himself… but he didn't, and Clarke took the responsibility.

_Always the damn hero_ …

Bellamy closes his eyes, trying to find sleep that ran from him hours ago. A part of him hopes that when he wakes up all of this will have been a bad dream. That he'll be safely locked away in the bunker with his sister while Clarke is up doing Clarke-ish things with a pulse in her neck and color in her cheeks; but that has been his thought process for two days, and every time he wakes up he's alone in space staring at a gray wall and a pile of playing cards.

It helps when he pretends everything is fine and that somewhere in this tragic universe Clarke is alive. God, he wish that were true.

He wishes Clarke would have used more than just her head sometimes. Maybe he should have given her a speech in return- but then again it's not like she would have listened to him anyway. Its really always been whatever the hell  wants.

Bellamy blows a laugh out of his nose, his eyes sad and doe like. He should have let her known how appreciated she was before. They really owe it all to her.

He huffs, adjusting the blankets again. He has to be strong for the group- to pretend everything is fine. He made a promise to Clarke, and he'd be damned if he broke it.

But tonight, as Bellamy squeezes his eyes shut, a hot tear running down his face, he knows he can't pretend forever; not even for her.

 

First, she hears ringing. A buzz in her ears, slowly growing more and more quiet as she comes to. She can feel a numb ache all over her body, her head pounding. Her eyes twitch, opening up very carefully. She feels like she's in a dream.

Everything is a blur, but she can see she's lying on the floor next to small puddles of blood. Clarke squints her eyes, trying to clear up her vision enough to realize where she's at.

_How am I not dead?_

_I should be dead._

Her muscles ache as she forces them to lift her up off the ground. She cries out a little, clutching her teeth together until shes crouching on one knee. Finally, she can tell she's in the lab. Clarke looks around, Her heart beating abnormally fast and her breathing unevenly paced. The lights flicker, the ringing in her ears changing to a murmur from the backup generator. Other than that, it's eerily silent

She taps her tongue on the roof of her mouth. It feels like she's hasn't had a drink of water in months. She dry coughs, a pain shooting through her body from the jerk. Every inhale she takes yields another cough, and soon she has her mouth covered as she gags uncontrollably, heaving and shaking until she spits up blood. She examines the mess on her hand, the color dark and oil-like- nightblood. _It worked_ , she thinks.

She uses the sleeve of her suit to wipe her mouth, drying her hand off on her pant leg.

After a while Clarke stands up completely, holding her head with one hand to give herself some balance. She coughs again, the taste of blood coming up her throat. She stumbles a little as she walks, leaning on every surface she can until she reaches the shattered machine. She takes a breath, only making her choke on the blood in her mouth. She spits It out on the table surface and grabs a full nighblood injection.

_It worked_ , she thinks, _but I need more if I want it to keep doing it's job._

Her hands shake, making it difficult to find a vein. She does eventually, and she can almost instantly feel the nightblood working. She sighs with relief, closing her eyes. When she opens them she catches a glimpse of herself in the black computer screen. Her face is blistered and smeared with blood. She looks away.

She feels overwhelmed with happiness knowing that she survived-and then it dawns on her that she's all alone, and she's back to frowning.

She tosses the needle aside, resting her hands onto the table. She's dehydrated and unsteady.

_I need to find water_ , she tells herself.

Without much motivation, she stands up straight and begins looking around. Her eyes fall on a tank, lighting up as she notices the ice cubes floating inside of it. She trails her eyes to the little bit of water on the floor all the way to the defibrillator. She smirks a little once she connects the dots, stumbling her way over to the tank.

"Thank you, Raven," she whispers.

Just in case she's hallucinating, she dips her stained finger tips into the liquid. When she feels the coldness of it cover her hand, she instantly shovels some into her mouth. Its cold and refreshing. She's thankful for this, but she holds off drinking anymore. If she wants this to last, she has to be smart with it.

She takes time to breathe, resting her head on the side of the tank. Her eyes shoot open as her brain starts to function and everything starts to come back to her in full. _How many days has it been?_

She walks over to the computer screen, turning it on to check the date.

2 since praimfaya.

Then it clicks.

"Bellamy," she whispers, panic setting in her chest.

_Did they make it inside the ring_?

Clarke opens up the drawers to the table, throwing objects around in search of a radio.

Her hands fumble over objects, switching to filing cabinets and buckets all around the lab. She finds herself upstairs, going through cabinets she's never looked in before. Her eyes water as she becomes overwhelmed with the thought she'll never know if she could save her friends.

She yells out in frustration, throwing a box of spare bolts off a shelf. The box breaks open, releasing the metal bits everywhere. She looks over to them, a tear sliding down her cheek.

_Are they alright_?

She walks over to the railing overlooking the lab, a hand resting on her aching stomach. She inhales and drops her head, grabbing onto the bar with both hands.

_What if I couldn't save them?_

She turns her head, still sobbing frustrated tears. She yearns for comfort, but she's alone in this lab without another person anywhere near her. She realizes crying won't do her any good. She opens her eyes, calming herself down with even breaths. She can't crumble. She needs to be strong.

Her eyes fall on a door, her body relaxing to the sight of it. Its the room with the radio inside. It's the room where Bellamy sat when he told Clarke she wouldn't be able to tell her mom goodbye. Her hearts sinks, but she straightens herself up and lets go of the rail. She's aware of the radios last condition, but she has to at least try. She opens the door, looking over to the place Bellamy held her in his arms. She can almost feel them around her now, comforting her. Her lip trembles slightly, her throat tightening into a knot. She wishes he were here to comfort her now. She doesn't want to be alone.

She shakes her head, stepping into the room. She can't feel sorry for herself. She grabs the radio off the table and presses the button.

"Bellamy?" she says, her voice breaking. Her throats still dry.

There's no response.

She hesitates to talk again, thinking there's no use. Then she thinks about a conversation she and Bellamy once had…

_**You still have hope?** _

_**We still breathing?** _

She grinds her teeth. As long as she's still breathing, she refuses to believe her friends aren't. Besides, it's not like anyone's around to see her talk to herself.

"Bellamy," she says again, "it's been two days since the death wave hit. I don't know if you're still alive, but… I have hope."

She looks out of the glass wall to the empty lab below. Everything flickers. The generator won't last her 5 years… maybe a few months at most. She looks to the closed doors where the rocket once sat behind, her heart dropping.

"If you can hear me… remember what I said. You have to keep them alive, Bellamy. I know you can."

Clarke lets off the button and sets the radio down. She sniffles, holding back tears as she slumps down onto the couch, looking at the cushion where Bellamy once sat. It feels like the ghost of him is right there next her, and the ghost of all her friends are down stairs. She can imagine Murphy annoying everyone and Raven coming up with some stupid device to save the generator.

_Stupid and Raven. It's an oxymoron_.

Clarke can hear Bellamy saying it, and it makes it even harder to imagine him not being alive. What if she'll never hear his voice again? What if that was the last time she got to see him, and she wasted it?

_No, you need to have hope. What would bellamy say_? She asks herself.

_He would say…_

She takes a deep breath, closes her eyes and utters-

"May we meet again."

**Author's Note:**

> I suck but like... Let's pretend I don't 


End file.
